


Missing You

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Series: Wrapped it Myself (even has a little bow on it) [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (and harry responds by wrapping himself up like a Christmas present and gifting himself to Louis), (basically louis sends the kids away for a weekend to give him and harry a break), (it's glorious and you'll love it), Canon-Compliant, Daddy Kink if you squint, Domestic, Fluff, Future Fic, I can't say it enough this is fluffy kidfic, Kidfic, M/M, Smut, but also really filthy smut..., fluff fluff fluff fluff, what can I say they're complex boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis have been together for ten years now, with four beautiful children and busy careers and exactly no time to themselves. When a month and a half goes by with no sex to be heard of, Harry gets desperate and Louis decides something has to give. A kid-free weekend and Christmas-themed lingerie ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> For sunflowerharry on tumblr, for her lovely contribution to my [fanart challenge!](http://canonlarry.tumblr.com/post/104102945750/im-not-saying-that-my-services-as-a-writer-can-be)
> 
> Please note that this series is going to have five works in it, one each day from now until Christmas Eve, all featuring Harry in a bow! Subscribe to the story or me so you'll be sure not to miss any, and enjoy! :-)

At sixteen and eighteen and incapable of keeping to themselves to the point of scarring their poor bandmates, Harry and Louis would never have imagined that they’d ever let their sex life fizzle out. It was certainly never their intention. Sometimes, though, life happens in unexpected ways and before you know it, it’s ten years later and nothing is the same.

Everything went according to plan at first; they were married at 21 and 23, right after coming out because honestly, five years was long enough to have pretended like they weren’t meant to be together forever. They knew they wanted two kids, one biologically Harry’s and one Louis’, and a year after the wedding they had Bonnie, with Louis’ blue eyes and soft hair. She’s just starting to toddle around when they decide to go for kid two.

That’s when things start to go awry, because when they go to the first ultrasound appointment with the surrogate and the doctor fires up the machine, there isn’t one miniature Harry growing in her stomach, there’s _three._ Louis turns to look at Harry with wide eyes and announces, “Three in one go? It’s a miracle you haven’t gotten _me_ pregnant!” before looking back at the screen in wonderment. “We’re having triplets,” he murmurs as he reaches for Harry’s hand.

Now Bonnie is five, Roman, Axel, and Talia are three, and Harry and Louis are _exhausted._ Even without the constant touring like there was in the old days, they feel like they never stop moving. Four kids will apparently do that to you. There’s always someone screaming, someone crying, someone hungry or wet or cold and generally just needing one of their fathers’ attention.

Which is all well and fine and Harry and Louis wouldn’t trade their kids for anything, except for the fact that by the time they’re done being parents and pop stars, they barely have time or energy to spend on each other anymore. Usually in the mornings they can park the kids in front of the TV and get a solid half an hour of peace in which they can take a shower together and give each other hand jobs. Sometimes at night when they fall into bed, one or both of them has enough energy to give a blowjob before they pass out –a very _quiet_ one, mind you, because there are children in the house. It isn’t a glamorous existence, but when you have four kids under the age of six it’s about the best you can manage.

This morning is like every other morning: woken by the blaring of an alarm, just enough time to make tea and start breakfast before the herd has to be woken up to get ready for school. Harry’s just putting food on the table as Louis leads them all down the stairs and parks them at the table. Fifteen minutes to scarf down food, then everyone to the living room two watch two episodes of Spongebob while dads run back upstairs to shower. Clothes come off in record time (no time to spare, really) and they step into the near-boiling stream one after the other.

They go about their shower like a well-oiled machine. First Harry shampoos his hair beneath the spray while Louis scrubs the skin clean on both of them. Then they switch so that Louis’ under the water so the suds can rinse off him, hair getting damp so Harry can shampoo it for him. While Harry’s hands are busy Louis makes good use of his own, letting the bubbles from the body wash slick up his palm so that it slides easier when he reaches down to start pulling Harry off. Their lips meet, tasting like soap and freshly cleaned teeth, and before Harry comes he whispers a warning so that Louis can step aside and let his strings of white land on the drain instead of their freshly cleaned skin.

Louis pecks Harry’s mouth once more and reaches around Harry to grab the conditioner. The next part of the dance involves him working conditioner into Harry’s curls, because Harry is the ridiculous sort of creature who uses conditioner in his hair and besides, he loves having his hair played with. Harry hums happily as soon as Louis’ fingertips make contact with his scalp, smiling as he slips his hand down Louis’ torso and between his thighs.

When his hand finds Louis’ cock, he’s surprised to find it completely flaccid. “Oh,” he says mildly. “Do you not want me to –?”

“No, you can,” Louis returns easily. Harry starts stroking him silently, and Louis continues to lavish the dark locks with product. He’s so focused on his task that it takes him a minute to notice Harry’s frown. “What’s the matter, babe?”

“Nothing.”

He leaves it at that, which pretty much solidifies that it isn’t _nothing._ “Harry, c’mon,” Louis insists, taking Harry’s wrist to stop his movements. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Harry just stares down at Louis’ semi where it’s still clutched in his hand. “You got me off and it didn’t do anything for you. Like, not even a little bit.”

“Oh.” Louis clears his throat. “I mean- you know I love getting you off, I’m just distracted, is all,” he defends weakly. “Busy day ahead and all that-”

“You can’t even properly get hard when I’m touching you,” Harry grumbles, tugging his hand away from Louis and out of his grasp and crossing his arms in front of his chest, head hung. “If you don’t want to touch me then just fucking say you don’t want to touch me,” he snaps, voice wounded.

Louis’ face heats up, half embarrassment at the suggestion of his impotence and half anger at the fact that it’s true. “Of course I want to touch you, idiot, I’m just –we have hand jobs scheduled into our morning routine, that’s not exactly sexy, you know?”

Silence, but for the sound of the shower running. For a moment Louis thinks he’s somehow managed to hurt his case further, but then Harry shuffles forward a few steps until his forehead is resting on Louis’ shoulder. “I know. I know it’s not,” he sighs, “and I’m sorry for snapping. I just lost my head for a minute and thought –thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore or something.”

He shrugs his shoulders and Louis wraps them in his arms at once, squeezing Harry tight. “Of course not, love,” he says with stomach unsettled. “Nothing like that. Of course I’m still attracted to you, I’m just not attracted to _this.”_ He pulls back and gestures around them. “Our sex life got routine somehow. Remember when we used to wind up fucking in the hallway half the time because we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other long enough to make it to the bedroom?”

It startles a little laugh out of Harry, who sniffs and looks up at Louis with bright eyes. “Thank god for magic erasers. They can get _anything_ off a wall.”

“Yeah, for the sake of our décor it’s probably best we grew out of that,” Louis teases, but his eyes remain serious. “I miss that, though. I miss being able to touch each other when we felt like it, not when we had time or when we can stay awake long enough to be quiet about it. You know?”

Harry nods quietly. “Everybody says it’s marriage that kills your sex life. We did fine with marriage, it was the four kids that killed us.”

They laugh together, and Louis leans in to press a tender kiss to Harry’s mouth. “I will never stop being attracted to you, okay? Could never. Not even when we’re old and grey and our tattoos look like a bunch of wrinkly little raisins.”

“As long as I don’t try to give you a hand job in the shower.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Louis groans, throwing his head back in exasperation. “I was just saying that –”

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing,” Harry shushes him with a giggle. “I know what you meant. You’re just saying that you want more, right? Want something a little better…” He takes one of Louis’ hands in his own and guides it to his waist before sliding it around the back and down over the swell of his bum until Louis’ fingers are slipping between his cheeks and ghosting over his hole. Wordlessly Harry brings one leg up to prop it on the side of the tub, spreading himself wide to give Louis better access while he nibbles on the older man’s bottom lip. “We’re both tired of the routine, right? So let’s mix it up.”

“You realize we’ve got like next to no time in here, right?” Louis says dazedly as his fingers are guided to rub across Harry’s entrance over and over. His stomach is getting tight just thinking about it. “There’s never- I mean we couldn’t possibly-”

“It’s been a month and a half since you’ve fucked me, Louis,” Harry murmurs. It almost sounds like a whine, except for the way it’s followed up with, “Think of how tight I’ll be.”

Louis does think about it, thinks about it until his dick is fully hard and the blurriness of his vision isn’t just due to the steam. He thinks about how tight Harry always is when it’s been too long, thinks about the all-too-distant memory of the way Harry falls apart on his cock… “Shit.”

“You really think it would take that long for either of us to finish, after all this time?” Harry continues, fingers running over Louis’ cock as gently as the streams of water making their way down both flushed bodies. “You don’t even have to make me come again, Lou, I just miss the feeling of having you inside me.”

There’s just enough time for Louis to moan and shove Harry into the shower wall before a tiny fist is banging on the door with quite some urgency. “Dad, Papa!” Bonnie wails. “Axel stole the remote and threw it at Roman and it changed the channel and now Talia won’t stop crying!”

Harry’s eyes drift shut in dismay. “You’re shitting me,” he mutters. “We’ll be right out, love, thank you for telling us,” he calls out louder, gently pushing at Louis’ chest until he can stand upright on his own. “Think there’s enough time for me to blow you before one of them kills the other?” he asks hopefully, voice quiet once more.

“Shut up and go get our kids, you tosser,” Louis responds with a roll of his eyes, playfully pushing Harry under the stream of water so that the conditioner rinses out. “They’re 75 percent your fault anyways.”

“Mmm, but they’re 25 percent yours, so you have five minutes to follow me or you’re a dead man,” Harry grins, offering one last kiss before he exits the shower.

Louis heaves a great sigh at the injustices of the time-space continuum and fiddles with the knobs until the water washing over him is suddenly cold as ice. He lets the cold sap the hardness from his body and the flush from his skin in waves of shivers, giving himself one last rinse before he shuts off the water and exits as well.

It’s no one’s fault, exactly, that this is the way their life has become. They have a wonderful life and beautiful children and if things get a little crazy sometimes, no one is to blame.

That being said, something _has_ to give.

…………………

An hour ago Harry and Louis had parted ways at the studio, Harry to head home and start dinner, Louis to pick up the kids from daycare, so naturally when Louis walks in with no little ones to be seen, Harry is concerned. “Uh, I know we both had a long day, but you know you’re supposed to bring them in from the car, right?” he asks, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and slotted spoon hovering over a boiling pot of water.

Louis grins and comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and kissing his cheek gently. “Kids aren’t in the car.”

That settles for a moment, and Harry reaches out to stir the pot thoughtfully. “I don’t mean to be rude, love, but where the fuck are our children?”

“Within Europe, almost definitely. Okay, _okay,”_ Louis laughs when Harry gives him a look. “They’re with your mum. Alright? She met me at the daycare, I signed them all out, and she took them back with her to Cheshire. Satisfied?”

“My mum?” Harry echoes incredulously. “Why –what? But the whole family’s going to be here visiting in two weeks for Christmas _–what?”_

“Because I called her.” Louis leans over the stove and lifts a pot lid to find red sauce simmering beneath. “Oooh, spaghetti? I love spaghetti, get in!”

“Louis.”

“What? Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Louis pries the utensil from Harry and sets it on the spoon rest so he can take both hands in his own. “This morning got me thinking, about how we’ve had a couple of really busy, stressful years, and I don’t want our marriage to suffer just because we’ve got a full plate, you know? Because you’re important to me. And family is supposed to be a support system, so I figured we need support… so I called your mum and told her that we needed a break, some time to ourselves before having a full house for the holidays. As usual no arm twisting was needed where quality time with the grandbabies was involved.” Louis smirks a little conspiratorially. “She’s keeping them until Sunday afternoon, and then I’m gonna go pick them up.”

“She’s –so that’s tonight, and all day tomorrow, tomorrow night, and Sunday morning? All by ourselves?” Harry looks a little lost. “No kids? No work? Nothing?”

“Well we did have that one photoshoot with Vogue, but unfortunately we’ve both contracted laryngitis and absolutely cannot leave the house. They send their get well wishes and they’ll see us as soon as we’re no longer contagious.”

Harry stares at him for a few more seconds before pinching his side lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me before I made enough food for six people?” he says weakly, then wraps Louis in a bone-crushing hug. “I love you. I love this. Thank you. I adore those kids, but a weekend without them sounds incredible.”

Louis kisses the corner of his mouth, his cheek, just in front of his ear, then whispers, “The pot is boiling over.”

Once Harry’s sworn and danced around the stove averting a crisis, he ladles two plates full of pasta and sauce and hands one to Louis. “Hungry?”

“God yeah. And because the kids aren’t home, we’re going to eat it _on the couch.”_ He drops his voice to a scandalous whisper and winks just because he knows it will make Harry giggle.

“You naughty thing, you!” Harry laughs with one raised eyebrow. “Spaghetti on the couch, mmm, keep talking dirty to me. Actually,” he adds in a more thoughtful tone, “don’t speak. I can’t remember the last time we had peace and quiet during a meal.”

Louis laughs too and follows Harry to the living room, plopping down on the opposite end of the couch and tangling their legs together in the middle. They can hear the heat running quietly in the background and the distant sound of traffic on the street, but mostly the only noise they can hear is the gentle scrape of forks on plate. It’s almost eerie, except that it’s glorious.

“Trashy late-night telly,” Harry declares when they set their plates on the coffee table in unison. “I want to sit right here on this couch with you and watch grown-up television shows with bad words and innuendos that we never watch anymore.”

“Agreed,” Louis sighs in contentment, abandoning his end of the couch in favor of cuddling in with Harry, half on top of him and half wrapped around him. I would be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that ten years of time haven’t changed the way that they fit perfectly together, and Harry tangles his limbs up too with a happy hum.

They don’t talk much, mostly just laughing at the crude jokes and murmuring questions to each other about how this character got pregnant or when that one died. Eventually, though, one or the other is yawning every few minutes, and Louis reaches out to snag the remote and click the end credits of a sitcom back into darkness.

Harry threads his fingers through Louis’ hair very gently. “So. House to ourselves tonight.”

“Mmhmm.”

“No little ears, no early wakeup…”

“None whatsoever.”

“We could be as loud as we want for as long as we want.”

“That we could…”

There’s a long pause, in which Harry continues playing with Louis’ hair and Louis offers no further comment. “Or we could go to bed and sleep deeply until we feel like humans again.”

“Oh thank fucking god you suggested that, I’m bloody exhausted,” Louis blurts out, startling a laugh out of Harry. “Benefit of marrying your soulmate, innit? They know what you need?”

They both struggle to sit upright and Harry leans in to give him a chaste, gentle kiss. “My soulmate senses are tingling, and they’re telling me we need to go to bed so we can wake up and be brilliant soulmates together.”

“That didn’t even make sense,” Louis scoffs as they stand, capturing Harry’s hand in his own and tangling their fingers loosely together. “Were you trying to be funny, or sentimental? I can’t even tell anymore, you’re bloody awful.”

“Shut up, Louis, and take me to bed.”

………………….

When Louis wakes up, it’s a solid twelve hours later, his muscles are deliciously sore from disuse, and Harry is attempting to mop up the puddle of drool he’s left on Louis’ chest. “Morning,” Harry says blearily when he notices Louis’ eyes opening. “Or like, afternoon. It’s technically like half twelve.”

“That explains why the sun is so bright,” Louis yawns. “Why don’t we have blackout curtains?”

“Because we haven’t needed blackout curtains in five years. We could get blackout curtains.” Harry nuzzles his face into Louis’ shoulder.

“Didn’t stop us from sleeping ‘til half twelve, so I think we’ll survive. You want breakfast? I’m starving.”

Harry grunts in agreement and starts pushing himself up. “I’ve got the stuff for waffles, even could make them chocolate chip if you want –”

Before he can get so much as a toe off the mattress he’s being yanked back down into Louis’ embrace. “You’re banned from cooking all weekend,” Louis declares. “You cook at least two meals a day, every day. So none for you this weekend. Either I make it, or it’s ordered in.”

“So mostly ordering in, then, I hope?”

Louis nips whichever part of Harry happens to be closest, which turns out to be the tip of his nose. “Shut up. I’m going to go make us cereal and bring it back to bed, because I am a twenty-eight year-old man who is capable of making cereal, probably.”

He is, as it turns out, capable of making an _excellent_ bowl of cereal, and they sit side by side propped up against the headboard to eat them, disrupting the silence of the house only with their quiet, easy chatter. Determined to keep Harry in bed and relaxed, Louis even takes the bowls back downstairs and loads them in the dishwasher himself. The plan appears to be failing, though, because he’s just shutting the dishwasher door when he turns around to find Harry dressed in warm clothes and sneakers and grabbing for his keys.

“Where are you going?” Louis asks in dismay. “I pulled a bunch of strings to get us this time together.”

“You pulled _two_ strings, Louis, and one of them doesn’t count because it’s my mum. I’ll just be gone an hour, I just have to run out and grab something real quick. Okay?” He comes up to take Louis gently by the shoulders and steer him into the living room to be parked on the couch. “How about you play some videogames while I’m gone? You never have time to do that anymore.”

“I haven’t bought a videogame for myself in years,” Louis grumbles, still a little put out. “Everything I have is all old and I’ve played it a million times.”

Harry rolls his eyes –honestly, _how_ many children live in this house? –and goes to rummage around a bit under the Christmas tree before emerging with a small package that he rips open and tosses on the couch next to Louis. “Luckily you have a husband who’s smart enough for both of you,” he tells Louis as the older man realizes that it’s the latest version of FIFA, and drops a kiss on his stubbly cheek. “Have fun. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?”

“I adore you,” Louis tells him as he scrambles forward to load the disc into the console excitedly.

Harry laughs and blows a kiss over his retreating shoulder. “I know.”

…………………

Once he’s flexed his FIFA muscles and the rust has fallen away, Louis is leading his team to victory when Harry returns home. “Hey, love,” Louis greets him, smile easy and relaxed. “Get what you needed?”

“I did, yeah.” Harry appraises the scene, so familiar, and grins. “I, uh, I wanted to go by the mall and get some bath bombs. Figured we could have a bath together in the big tub?”

Louis’ grin only widens; Harry is the only person who he’d ever admit it to, but taking baths with bath bombs was his guilty indulgence. There was nothing like spending a nice, relaxing hour soaking and coming out smelling all lovely. Of _course_ Harry would go out and get those on their no-kids weekend, since when in the past three years had he had time to take a proper bath?

Harry must take Louis’ delight as agreement (it most definitely is) because he smiles and jerks his head upstairs. “I’ll go run the water while you finish your match, then you can come join me?”

“I’ll be up in a few minutes, yeah,” Louis answers fondly.

The other team is successfully slayed and Louis shuts off the console and starts to make his way upstairs, leaving a trail of clothes as he goes because why not, when it’s just him and Harry? He’s naked by the time he pushes open the door to the master bedroom–

-only to find Harry sprawled out on his back on the unmade bed, naked except for a silky red ribbon that’s wrapped around him and tied off in a big red bow right in the center of his chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis says weakly. “That’s not a bath bomb.”

“To be fair, I did go to the mall and buy bath bombs. I just also got distracted by the display in the window of that little lingerie boutique on the way…” Harry bites his lip devilishly and rolls one end of the ribbon between his fingertips to feel the texture. “You like it?”

“I like _you,”_ replies Louis, still flustered, eyes continuing to roam up and down Harry’s body where the red and the pale skin met. “I _love_ you.” He moves a little further into the room until he’s standing by the bed, hands hovering over Harry like he’s afraid to touch. That doesn’t last long, though; one hand reaches up to push a curl back out of Harry’s face and the other traces the ribbon down from the bow on the chest to where it slips between his thighs. Underneath the smooth fabric he can feel the bulge of Harry’s cock hardening.

“I like the feel of the silk,” Harry says by way of explanation, a blush high on his cheeks and his breath catching at Louis’ touch.

“I know you do, baby,” Louis answers quietly, leaning in to kiss Harry. His lips are already so swollen from biting, and they move enthusiastically beneath Louis’. “You dressing up for me like this… makes me think about before we had the kids.”

Harry doesn’t have to ask what he means. He knows Louis is referring to the way that when they were young, before they had the responsibility of raising a family to weigh on them, they hadn’t always been so equally yoked. Sometimes Harry liked to be tied up and teased ‘til he cried, and sometimes Louis liked to pin him down and call him baby. Sometimes, before their family had begun in earnest, Harry had called him by a different name.

“You were always so good for Daddy, so desperate for my touch,” Louis continues to murmur, hand gently rubbing Harry through the fabric. “Weren’t you?”

“Still am,” Harry gasps. As if to prove it he arches up into Louis’ palm, tugging gently at his waist as if to pull him onto the mattress with him. “C’mon, Lou, get up here, please? We’ve had a month and a half of foreplay, I just want you to fuck me.”

Louis’ dick, already brought quickly to hardness by the sight of Harry laid out so beautifully, twitches at the words as if to add its insistence that _yes,_ Louis needed to be on that bed immediately. He quickly pushes off his joggers and the boxers beneath, pulling his tee shirt over his head as he climbs on top of Harry. It feels luxurious, to be able to lie down between Harry’s thighs with their torsos pressed together, all skin on skin and tongues sliding wetly together with no ticking clock to spur them to move faster.

There is Harry, though, nudging at Louis’ arm with a bottle of lube. “We can take our time with subsequent rounds, I promise, but can we just move this along please? I miss fingers inside of me.”

A small part of Louis wants to quibble that if he likes fingers inside of him so much he can do it himself, but really he’d rather just push the ribbon aside and slick up some fingers instead.He doesn't even bother asking Harry if he's ready, already knowing the answer, and instead just places one hand on Harry's stomach and eases the first finger in slowly.

Harry's back arches beautifully, the bow slipping a little out of its intended placement as the shape of his body changes. "Fuck, yes, perfect," he manages to say, then pushes his hips further down onto Louis' finger. "Come on, don't waste time, open me up."

Louis pretty much ignores that order, because he can feel how tight Harry is around his digit, and he would rather not take shortcuts tonight and wind up hurting Harry. That doesn't mean he's being lazy about it though; it just means that he's gentle and steady as he works his finger in and out, waiting until he can feel the muscles relax to start in with a second. As the stretch gets more intense, Harry appears to get more desperate, crushing the ribbon in his grasp and tugging at Louis' wrist with his free hand. He doesn't succeed in getting Louis to work his hand any faster, but he doesn't particularly seem to notice. He just sighs in relief when the third finger goes in, letting go of Louis and the bow so he can pillow his head on his arms and just lie back to enjoy it.

"Oh, now you relax," Louis laughs, and it's more than just a little cruel when he chooses exactly that moment to crook his fingers and run them across Harry's long-neglected prostate.

Harry yelps and grabs him by the back of the neck, pulling Louis down so he can kiss him crushingly. "You feel so god damn good," he moans into Louis' mouth. "Don't you never go this long without doing this again."

"Agreed," Louis hurries to say, stroking with his fingertips once more for the sheer delight of feeling Harry's stomach quiver and hearing the little cry he gives out. "You think you're ready to take-"

"Yes, yes, fuck, please," Harry is chanting before Louis can even finish the question. "Been ready. I've missed you, Lou, I want to feel you."

It's notably mutual, what with the way that Louis is hard and aching just from watching Harry writhe beneath them. “Alright, baby, calm down,” he's soothes. He presses a kiss to the butterfly on Harry’s stomach as he squirts more lube into his palm and starts to work it over his cock quickly. “I promise I'm going to give you what you need. Fuck, I've missed you too.”

Something about the way he says it must catch Harry’s attention, because Harry reaches up and tips Louis’ chin until he gets eye contact. “You know that none of this is an ultimatum, right? Like I’m not saying ‘you haven’t been fulfilling my needs so do it or I’m leaving.’ You know that right? I just miss you.”

“I know,” Louis says, although there _is_ a little knot of tension unraveling in his gut. “I know.”

He presses inside of Harry at last and he’s heavenly tight, he’s _sinfully_ tight. It’s an exercise in patience, keeping his hips still while Harry adjusts. He ducks his head and breathes in the smell of Harry at the crook of his neck, letting the sweat and the fruity shampoo calm him when all he wants is to fuck into Harry hard and fast. Eventually there’s a tap on his hip and he hisses with relief, pulling out a little and pushing back in, delighting at the wave of pleasure the motion brings.

The slide quickly gets easier, probably because Harry looks too blissed out to voluntarily contract a muscle. He’s all sprawled out with his eyes closed and a lecherous little smirk on his lips, tensing only every so often when Louis hits an angle that makes him whimper. Louis lets him be for the most part, savoring the drag of warm friction on his cock and pressing kisses to Harry’s chest and his shoulders and his throat and whatever pieces of him he can reach.

Soon, though, Louis fucks over his prostate and when Harry tenses up, he doesn’t relax again. Instead he wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulders and digs his nails in, panting right in Louis’ ear. “Not long,” he chokes out. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Louis takes this as encouragement and speeds up his hips, delighting in Harry’s cry. “Can’t wait to feel you come on my cock,” he moans in answer. He can feel his stomach getting tight as he hurtles towards orgasm, too. “Do you know how good that feels? I love making you come, Harry, you make me so hard –”

“Just like that, just like that, just like that!” Harry shouts, and at least one of his nails breaks into Louis’ skin.

“Come for me, baby,” Louis whispers in his ear. “Come for Daddy.”

Harry’s back arches at once and he yells wordlessly, cock getting trapped between their stomachs as he comes and coats their skin and the bow with sticky white. He’s still gasping for air when he reaches down to scrabble at Louis’ bum, to pull him closer and faster and harder. “Come inside me,” he pants desperately, hands tugging at Louis like it’ll have any effect. “Louis, please, come inside me.”

And Louis does, about fifteen seconds later, fingers digging into Harry’s hips to pull him closer and bury himself deep inside. He groans as he feels his cock twitch in the hot, slick clutch of Harry’s body, spilling inside of his husband for the first time in far too long.

It takes a long time for them both to relax again, but when Louis pulls out to collapse on the bed next to Harry, he does so with a massive exhale of relief. “Why are we so bloody good together?”

Harry pokes at his side sleepily. “You can’t just spontaneously self-refer as Daddy without any warning, do you know what that does to a guy?”

“Makes him come hard, apparently,” Louis smirks. He rolls onto his side and props himself up on one elbow to look at Harry, then reaches out to tug at the bow until it comes undone. “Well that’s ruined, then. Hope it wasn’t expensive. Actually, I don’t really give a shit if it was expensive, you should go back and buy it in every color. I’ll send you with my credit card.”

“Oh, just because you make a _little_ more money than I do –”

“Kindly shut up, Harry, and roll over. I’ve some rimming to attend to and I’ll not be distracted.”

…………………

By the end of the weekend, the sheets have to be thrown away along with the bow and neither man can walk without substantial discomfort –a detail that Louis sincerely hopes Anne won’t notice when he arrives to pick up the kids this afternoon. “I’ll pick up pizza on the way home,” Louis says as he wraps Harry up in his arms, stood in the entryway with keys in hand. “It’s still the weekend so you’re still banned from cooking.”

Harry giggles, but keeps his face hidden in Louis’ shoulder. “We need this more, I think. We need breaks.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Louis murmurs. “We’re clearly in over our heads. Maybe –maybe we could look into getting a nanny.”

“A nanny?” Harry pulls back and makes a face. “Louis, we swore to ourselves that we weren’t going to be _those_ parents.”

“Yeah, we swore that to ourselves four kids ago,” Louis reasons. “I mean think about it, we both have full time careers, and we have a house full of kids who need us every second of the day. What harm would it be to have someone around who could help with the cooking and cleaning, and getting the kids off to bed at night?” Harry appears unconvinced. “Just think about how nice it would be to come home in the evening and put your feet up instead of having to cook a big meal…” He rubs soothing circles on Harry’s back to drive the point home.

It works, and Harry heaves a sigh. “I suppose we’ll need extra hands around when construction starts. That’s going to make things crazy.”

“Construction?”

“Oh, we’re soundproofing our bedroom,” Harry says firmly. “It’s non-negotiable. We’re going to take the extra time and energy hiring staff has given us and we’re going to channel it in a room with walls so thick we could do an album in there and no one would know.”

Louis smiles up at the ceiling, because honestly, he has the _best_ husband. “That’s the greatest idea you’ve had since you let me marry you, honestly.”

“Yes, I thought so.” Harry gives him a kiss and straightens his scarf, which hangs characteristically crooked around his neck. “This was an incredible weekend, but I miss the kids to death. Is that weird? I can’t believe it’s been two days since I’ve kissed any of them. They’re probably, like, infinitesimally taller now. God, do you think Bonnie’s lost that tooth yet?”

It’s probably honestly a distressing thought to him, but Louis just gasps in fake alarm. “Oh, fuck! It could be falling out _right now_ and we’re missing it! I need to get to Cheshire stat!”

Harry barks a laugh, pushing Louis towards the door. “Go! Go! No, stay,” he pouts as the joke wears off and the reality of Louis leaving after such a heavenly weekend sets in. “Stay.”

Louis kisses him gently. “I’m going,” he says regretfully.

“I know.”

“But I’ll be back, and I’ll be bringing our four beautiful children, and we’re going to have pizza and be happy because this ridiculous life we lead is actually pretty perfect,” Louis says cheesily. “Okay? So don’t miss me too much.”

It wins a fond sort of blush from Harry, who pecks Louis’ cheek one more time and opens the door for him. “I already do.”

  _Art courtesy of sunflowerharry (tumblr)_

**Author's Note:**

> It took me two days to write this because I was having way too much setting up that cute-ass universe of louis and harry in domestic bliss don't look at me I'm weak
> 
> Tomorrow involves movie star Louis and his hipster boyfriend Harry, and maybe a naughty picture or two... ;)
> 
> canonlarry | tumblr


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